Chapter 5

Accidentally On Purpose

The very next day, before Titus had even had time to settle down and figure out in what manner he wanted to go to Ignis, Ignis came to him.

And, of all places, bold Ignis marched right into Glaive headquarters.

Because of course Ignis did.

Titus had been minding his own damn business, as he always did, and in the middle of his morning briefing there was a sudden knock on the door. Titus had sputtered to a halt, startled because he hadn't been expecting anyone, but he turned his head to the door.

Honestly, he had expected it to be Cor, and he was fully prepared to summon his arms then in the off chance that Cor had snapped and was there to decapitate him. As Titus had sometimes liked to tease first-year Crownsguard students : 'Your chances of being beheaded by the Marshal are slim, but never zero.'

The door pushed open, and a head poked in.

It wasn't Cor.

Titus must have looked entirely flabbergasted, for he was fairly certain that his lips had actually parted in utter disbelief. Dumbfounded, for it was Ignis standing there in the threshold as the door pushed open fully, and Titus was so taken back and aghast because he simply couldn't believe Ignis' gall.

Had never met someone quite so brazen and fearless.

Titus stared at Ignis, eyes a bit wide, and wondered if this was the end for him. Was he about to be jumped in front of thirty Glaives? Not that his ego wouldn't appreciate it, but honest to the gods above, Titus desperately wanted Clarus to lose that bet—

Ignis came a step inside, and said, so very coolly, "Forgive the intrusion, Captain. I come bearing a message from the King."

Ah. Sure he did.

Titus instantly noticed that Ignis' hair was swept back and up, as it had been at the gala. No doubt because Titus had complimented it, for every little thing Ignis did had a purpose.

Titus smirked a bit and teased, "That's a shame. I thought you were coming to ask me for another dance."

Sniggering behind him.

Unshakeable Ignis, who never missed a beat, retorted, "If I recall the night's events correctly, you asked me for a dance. Sir."

"So it seems." Titus lifted his chin, and then asked, "A bit out of your way to run errands, is it not? Has it slipped his Majesty's mind that phones exist?"

Ignis smirked, coming inside and shutting the door behind him, a folder in hand, and Ignis was quick to quip, "I can't attest to what has and has not slipped his Majesty's mind. I'm merely doing as I'm told."

As always.

Titus lidded his eyes, gave Ignis a nice long look-over, and had the sense then to actually look over to the Glaives. Saw there exactly what he expected; gawking and leering. Smiles hidden behind hands.

Ugh.

It was Luche, naturally, who broke rank first and called, "Good morning! Nice seeing you again."

Politely, Ignis returned the greeting, taking his eyes from Titus and casting them over to Luche.

Titus was instantly aware of how Luche puffed out, expanded, turned on that charm and swagger, and damn if that didn't grind Titus' gears. Ignis, teenager that he was, merely responded to Luche's smarm by throwing a hip out cattily and raising his brow, smile crooked and eyes lidded.

Dammit.

Ignis didn't help matters by uttering, in that very deep voice that could have taken down any man, "You look quite different without the door behind you."

Titus rolled his eyes, knowing that Ignis addressing Luche in any manner at all was going to make Luche's head expand three sizes and give Luche an even more intense interest. Luche really had been eyeing Ignis for a long while, and Titus had sometimes heard Luche blabbering about Ignis to Nyx and Libertus in the mess hall.

One could even have gone so far as to say that Luche was lovesick, though not in a traditional romantic sense. Luche was a player, a man whose ego led his actions above all else, overconfident and arrogant, but Luche's interest in Ignis hadn't seem to wane over the years. It was very likely that Luche was so interested in Ignis because Ignis was so far out of Luche's league. Luche could never have Ignis, and for that alone Luche wanted him more. Just to prove that he could. Luche always seemed to have a point to prove, always needed to show off, always needed to be in charge. If Insomnia told Luche he couldn't have it, then Luche would strive more.

All that said, Titus wouldn't stand there and pretend to know exactly what Luche's intentions and feelings were, but dammit all—!

Titus was going to get there first.

Luche could do whatever he wanted when Titus or Ignis got bored of the other, but Titus would be damned if Luche laid hands on anything that Titus happened to be actively trying to manhandle.

Pride, and all that.

Luche suddenly swaggered forward and extended his hand to Ignis in a more formal greeting, and before Ignis could happily take it, Titus had swept forward, thrust his arm out and stopped Luche short by blocking his chest. Luche glanced over, smile still strong, and Titus sent him a clear look of warning, before stating, "Stand down, Glaive. This one is off limits, under the royal arm."

Luche snorted in good humor, knew he was had, and respectfully bowed his head and took a step back.

Thankfully.

Coulda sworn he heard Crowe whisper, "The royal arm or the Captain's arm?"

Shit—

Ignis turned those heavy eyes to Titus and practically purred, "Whatever do you mean, Captain?"

And now Titus stood upon a fork in the road, and had a choice to make.

To engage Ignis right there in front of everyone, to put himself out there a little and let his Glaives have that extra bit of relationship with Titus, to solidify camaraderie with not only them but also Ignis, and to let Ignis know that despite Titus' seriousness he would make an exception for Ignis on occasion and allow himself to be off guard. To let his Glaives know that he had a personality and was not, like Cor, some mindless puppet of the King.

Or to remain professional, to stand down, to deny Ignis any further playfulness, and to remind his Glaives that although Titus was amicable at times and could indeed be humorous, this was a serious setting and not the place for any mischief. To hold onto a sense of duty and let the Glaives know that he expected them to do the same.

Titus thought about it for all of three seconds before he made his decision.

It was fairly obvious, in hindsight.

As Ignis eyed him up and down and Titus puffed out as much as Luche ever had, Titus easily retorted, voice ever softer, "Forgive me, Ignis, but Glaive headquarters isn't exactly the safest place for one of your particular…status."

A pointed rake of Ignis' legs, because it made his Glaives happy to see Titus messing around and happy Glaives that identified with their Captain would shape the future.

But not for their King's benefit.

"And what status might that be, Captain?"

Luche laughed a bit at that, and answered in Titus' stead, "Single."

Titus scoffed, pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Luche, and said, "That exactly. You come roaming amongst the wolves and you're likely to be bitten. There's a reason we keep this lot mostly outside the walls and away from civilized society."

Pelna griped, "Hey!"

Ignis stood up on his toes, peered over the Glaives as if inspecting them, and then turned a serious face to Titus and drawled, "They seem to be fairly on the up and up; I don't spy any broken legs today."

Titus narrowed his eyes and glared over his shoulder at the Glaives, and said, in a grumble, "Wonder where you heard that from?"

"Can't recall."

"Don't worry. After you leave, I can arrange it. Now. I've wasted enough of your time. What message do you have for me?"

Ignis' smile was alarmingly close to a leer, and he suddenly swept forward quite gracefully, putting himself chest to chest with Titus. Titus gawked, astounded by the bravado, and Ignis thrust the folder into the air, eyes the only thing visible above as he hid his face from the Glaives, and before Titus could really get his brain working Ignis had suddenly leaned in to whisper in his ear.

Literally.

Right into his ear, actually pressing his lips into Titus' skin, and Titus was so taken aback by the sheer audacity that he didn't even pull back. Actually...found himself leaning in, come to think, as Ignis' warm breath moved his hair. Hoped he didn't shiver, and was very grateful that his clothing covered him from head to toe, for he certainly had goosebumps.

This kid had some brass ones.

And there was no need at all for this level of secrecy, discretion, proximity, for Ignis merely whispered, so deeply, "King Regis has requested that you delay Noctis' warping class today until 14:00."

Was that all? Seriously?

The Glaives were on their toes, gawking, snickering, imaginations running wild. Ignis was no doubt intentionally attempting to stoke Titus' already over-inflated ego in front of the Glaives, and he was very much succeeding. The audience served its purpose well, and the Glaives were no doubt enjoying themselves every bit as much as Titus was, for they were often very invested in his life.

It was kinda nice to remind his subordinates that he did, in fact, have game.

When he wanted to.

It was then that Titus realized Ignis' other hand had raised, ever so slightly, and had rested atop Titus' forearm, right there in front of everyone.

Luche was staring hard, smirking away, and even stoic, humorless Nyx had lifted his chin and looked very nearly amused.

A good show, it seemed.

So Titus played along, moved his head so that it was also behind the folder, their faces now both hidden from the nosy Glaives, and Titus pressed his lips fully onto Ignis' ear in turn to whisper, "Is that all? I thought we were under siege. Since when have you become Regis' pageboy?"

A mutter.

"You'll have to take that up with his Majesty."

Oh, he would. Regis was full of tricks these days. Regis had, in all fairness, not promised Titus that he would stop playing games, but Titus had thought he would wait longer than twenty-four hours.

Titus raised a hand in turn to brush it down the arm holding the folder as he whispered, because there was little reason not to. Ignis' sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and it was very obvious how the hairs on his arms stood up the moment Titus' lips had come into contact with his ear.

Still had it, by god.

Everyone else noticed, too, and it was Nyx of all people who called, seriously, "Hey, Captain. You gettin' some action back there, sir?"

Tittering.

Titus and Ignis lifted their heads at the same time, eyes yet the only thing visible, and Titus snorted before tossing back, "Nyx, I assure you I'm getting more action behind this folder than you've gotten in the last five years combined."

Nyx winced a bit, Luche barked a laugh, and Ignis finally lowered the folder, ever so elegantly, and gave the Glaives another look over.

Luche was pleased at least, sending Ignis a wink and kissing the air.

Ignis quirked a brow and playfully smacked Titus' arm with the folder (the Glaives gawked, naturally, because of course no one else would ever dare to attempt to play with Titus aside from Ignis), and it was with a very beautifully sultry tone that Ignis drawled, "Captain, I'm amazed! I didn't think you allowed your men to have any fun at all. Perhaps I misjudged you." Ignis' eyes very intently raked Titus up and down, and he added, "Suppose there is a personality beneath that impeccable physique."

Impeccable, eh?

Titus stood up straight and tall, squared his shoulders and splayed his legs, Ignis hid a smile behind the folder, and Titus teased back, "Not a great personality, but a personality all the same. Keep coming by; I'll keep surprising you."

"I look forward to it," Ignis purred, eyes lidded and stance very flirtatious.

Titus was quite pleased with himself indeed.

"Good day, Captain," Ignis abruptly said, giving Titus one more heated rake and then giving the Glaives a final observation. With that, he turned on his heel and clearly meant to leave, his message having been delivered.

Hm.

Didn't think he'd go so soon.

As Ignis walked to the door, Titus glanced over at smirking Luche, at smug Nyx, at giggling Crowe, at smiling Pelna. Couldn't explain why he felt a rise of unexpected exhilaration, why it felt like all of his stars were aligning at once, why he felt very on top of the world, and suddenly he called, "Ignis!"

Ignis looked over his shoulder quite coyly, and rumbled, "Something else, Captain?"

Why hadn't he just let Ignis walk away? The Glaives had already had a good bit of fun.

All the same, Titus murmured, "Now that you've seen how much fun I let my men have, perhaps you'll consider leaving the Crownsguard and joining our ranks instead."

Ignis' brows shot up as he appeared stunned.

...and he could probably expect Cor with drawn katana any minute now.

Ignis came out of his shock quickly, and said, so airily, "My word, Captain! Are you trying to sweep me off my feet and right out from under the Marshal? He'd be heartbroken! I could never. But your offer is quite...titillating. Perhaps I'll sleep on it."

Good for Titus that Ignis didn't know how heartbroken Cor truly would be.

Because his Glaives were encouraging him and Ignis was being extremely cooperative, Titus felt safe enough to say, breathily, "I always knew you'd jump on the chance to 'sleep on' me."

Nyx snorted, and it was Ignis that time who seemed taken aback by Titus' boldness. Could have sworn Ignis had scoffed, and his mouth was certainly open. Pretty mouth, at that, and Luche of course was staring.

Ignis recovered very easily, as always, and retorted, "As I always knew you'd leap on the chance to offer!"

Touché.

"You were asking for it."

"Indeed. But can I be blamed? Who could resist the handsome and valiant Captain?"

Titus stood up straight, thrust out his chest, and said, with complete honestly, "Ignis, you're my favorite member of the Crownsguard."

Ignis nearly rolled his eyes and drolled, "Indeed, as in the next decade or so, I shall be your superior."

No end to that smart mouth!

Titus lifted a brow, lidded his eyes, and gave Ignis' pin missile legs a long rake as he said, ever so seriously, "Actually, I had had...less professional reasons."

Crowe was looking back and forth between Ignis and Titus so quickly that Titus was quite shocked that she hadn't snapped her own neck by then.

Ignis seemed flattered, put one leg out ever so slightly, and finally decided duty called by saying, rather sultrily, "Good afternoon, Captain. Pleasant dreams."

"Not as pleasant as yours!" Titus called at the last second, because he always needed the final word. Ignis waved him off, sauntering away.

And then, right on the brink, Ignis hesitated. Titus crossed his arms over his chest, smugly, as he waited for the third round. Neither of them felt like backing down, it seemed, encouraged by everyone around them.

Ignis reached into his pant pocket, pulled something out, clenched it in his hand, and then turned back around. He advanced on Titus neatly, and then held out his hand. Between Ignis' gloved index and middle finger there was a little slip of paper, and Titus bowed his head in show as he took it.

Ignis smirked, and then very quickly retreated.

When Ignis was gone, the Glaives immediately burst into chatter, and Titus unfolded the paper as discreetly as he could. Couldn't hide that smirk, though.

A phone number.

Nice.

Luche, predictably, turned to Titus right away and cooed, "Didn't take you for such a Casanova, sir."

Nyx uttered, "The Captain still has it."

"Never lost it," Titus retorted.

Luche was smiling away, staring at the door in Ignis' absence, and Titus was very annoyed that Luche wasn't, well...annoyed. Luche wanted to try his hand at Ignis, so why was he laughing along with everyone else?

Maybe Luche just thought this really was a game.

The Glaives laughed now, perhaps, because they didn't think this was actually serious. Just their boss yanking their chains, having a laugh, teasing for the sake of teasing. Really, though, to be fair, who ever would have taken it seriously? Titus was forty-one and Ignis was seventeen. Clarus and Regis considered Ignis their extra child; it wasn't so out of the ordinary that Titus should have as well, and the Glaives likely saw it as just Titus being paternal in his own strange way. Wasn't like anyone outside of the old councilmen and their own teenage lovers would have ever thought their flirting was anything but platonic. Titus could have now been someone's grandfather.

Ugh—sounded awful like that.

The council took it seriously, but the Glaives didn't, and Titus wasn't so sure that he should set them straight. Not just yet. Until he determined how much respect he would lose and with whom.

Had it been taken seriously, Nyx wouldn't be smirking; probably would have been aghast and never looked Titus in the eye again, as Titus had once felt about Cor. Libertus and Pelna wouldn't be smiling; probably woulda had CPS on speed-dial. Luche wouldn't be laughing—he'd be shocked and appalled, threatened, combative, put into rivalry and challenge mode. Crowe woulda...well. On second thought, Crowe probably was the only one taking it seriously, because she seemed to find it to her liking, odd as she was. And Tredd wouldn't have given a shit either way, because Tredd only cared about himself.

And if any of them had wondered what was on the paper Ignis had handed Titus, none of them asked, and Titus beat them back into attention shortly after.

He ran them hard that day, to wear them down and make them too tired to ask too many questions, and was aloof and strict with them until the sun started setting.

The day dragged.

As it often was, Titus stayed at headquarters long after business hours. The Glaives never slept, but HQ did, to the public at least. Always someone there, always Glaives on patrol, and Titus' office was on the tenth floor. He spent more time in this office than the one in the Citadel, naturally, and had turned it into a little home away from home. This particular office encompassed nearly half of the left side of the hall. Four separate connecting rooms. Had everything here he needed. A full bathroom with shower, a little kitchenette in one of the adjacent rooms with a stove and a dining table, a small living room in the other room with a television, a small faux fireplace for winter, air conditioning for summer. A coffee table. A dresser with spare clothes.

Even had a couch with a pull-out bed, for nights that ran too late for Titus to justify driving all the way home.

However many levels of this building were dark, there was often a light on in Titus' window.

As he scribbled through piles of paperwork, Titus glanced over frequently at his phone, contemplating and debating, and then he looked up at the clock.

Only 18:00...

Ignis never slept, it seemed, and surely stayed up quite late. Perhaps Titus could have some company tonight, and he glanced over to the door behind which stood that couch, trying not to smile.

May have come in handy.

A tap of his pen on the desk, and then Titus gave in to temptation and picked up his phone.

To text, or to call? That was the real question. Back in his day it would have been obvious, but kids these days were always texting away, fingers flying, and so Titus bit the bullet, pulled the paper from his pocket, and just shot Ignis a very quick text.

Less than graceful.

'Drautos here. If time allows, I request an audience at Glaive HQ tonight. 21:00. Tenth floor.'

Titus set his phone aside and meant to get back to his paperwork, but hadn't even picked his pen back up before his phone was buzzing. Ignis had already texted him back. Shouldn't have been surprised—kids these days, and all that whatnot.

'Time allows. See you there, Captain.'

Titus smirked smugly, and shook his head. Of course time allowed, when Ignis was getting so handsy. Titus abandoned his paperwork for just a moment, taking a second to lean back in his chair and rest his hands behind his head in nothing less than self-satisfaction.

Oh yeah—he was certainly beyond any doubt getting laid tonight.

About time.

How long had it been since his last partner? Could scarcely remember. He had been so busy lately, with a certain Chancellor breathing down his neck and asking ever more of him.

Never had time, but was determined now to make some for himself, because he deserved it.

He finished up a majority of the paperwork before Ignis came calling, and Titus informed the Glaive guarding the door downstairs that he was expecting a visitor. He had specifically chosen Sonitus for that, because of all Glaives he was the least likely to think anything of it and to start a gossip chain. Before that gala, it would have been nothing curious at all to see the future Hand of the King visiting the Captain after hours, but now there would be a bit of a microscope.

Titus shed his uniform, ducked into the shower, and then grabbed clothes from the dresser in the other room, pulling on a pair of slacks and a simple black t-shirt, because, to be very frank, that Kingsglaive uniform would be a pain in the ass for Ignis to rid Titus of in the heat of the moment.

Best to be simple.

At precisely 21:00, the intercom on his desk crackled, and Sonitus' voice came over.

"Captain, Scientia is here. I'm sending him up."

"Thank you."

Titus found himself reaching up and smoothing down his messy hair.

That long-forgotten thrill of excitement. The anticipation that came from being close to something desired. The nervous and jittery lead-up to being with someone for the first time. Titus was only a man, and felt those sensations as potently as anyone else.

A knock on his door.

Titus tried to appear very casual, hunched over his papers and pen still in hand, and then called, "Come in."

Ignis slipped inside, and Titus glanced up through his lashes as he sauntered forward. Ignis was wide awake, as Titus expected he would be, but his hair was loose now, bangs once again in his eyes. Had already showered and wound down for the day, perhaps, before Titus had interrupted him. Dressed rather casually as well. No button-down tonight; just a t-shirt and jeans.

Looked nice, as always.

"You called, Captain?"

Titus swept his hand to the chair before the desk, and said, "Sit."

Ignis did.

Ignis crossed his legs very elegantly, purposefully drawing Titus' eye as always, and when Ignis clasped his hands and rested them atop his knee, he leaned in and rumbled, "Here I am, Captain. At your service. What duty would you ask of me?"

Oh, had one in mind, alright.

Titus eyed Ignis' legs, drolly, and then teased, with a straightening of his papers, "Don't get too excited. I just called you up here to saddle some paperwork on you. Like everyone else."

Ignis scoffed, and said, with absolutely no shame, "Alas, I had expected a different sort of saddling." Titus gaped, shocked again by Ignis' gall, and Ignis pulled a pen out of his pocket, clicked it, and added, "Let us begin, then."

Realized that Ignis had thought he was serious, because everyone really did seem to pass off a good bit of their workload onto Ignis. Ignis, after all, never complained and did as he was told, long-suffering and willing to exhaust himself for others.

Titus set the papers in the first drawer of the desk, and said, softly, "On second thought, perhaps another time. I would be obliged to pay you for services rendered first, and I think my royal credit is about dried up."

Ignis ran his eyes very obviously over Titus' chest and his exposed biceps, the first time Ignis had ever really seen much skin on Titus, and Titus noticed then that Ignis was not wearing gloves.

Another first.

Ignis' fingers were long and slender, and Titus was very ready to find out how soft, exactly, Ignis' hands actually were.

He stood up from the desk then, wandered over to the window, and stared out over the city, always lit up. As expected, Ignis followed him, and they fell into stance side by side, observing never-sleeping Insomnia from above. Ignis put himself in close enough proximity to Titus that he could feel Ignis' warmth, and it was Ignis who spoke first then, to utter, "The Captain is always so pensive. You must have much on your mind."

Oh, if only Ignis knew the half of it.

Titus gave a 'hm', and then said, offhandedly, "I would prefer if you addressed me less formally. In private."

Ignis turned to look over at him, barely smiling, and obliged, "If that's what you prefer, Titus."

"It is."

Ignis might have smirked, turned his eyes back out to the vast city, and breathed, "So many people. It must weigh heavily on you, tasked as you are to keeping all of them safe. To have a care for the city entire."

"Indeed. There are some in the city, however, that I care for more than others."

As he said it, Titus cut to the chase and reached out to place his hand on the back of Ignis' long neck.

Titus had never lacked boldness, as much as Ignis.

Ignis tensed up for a split second under the touch, as if startled, but recovered very quickly, as was his job, and it was very clear from the crease in his cheeks that he was suppressing a smile. Titus raised his thumb to run it beneath the base of Ignis' hair, and felt the shiver.

Waiting then for Ignis to respond, because although it was very obvious to all Titus still needed consent on Ignis' part, lest his reputation crumble.

Didn't take long at all.

Ignis leaned to the side, pressing himself fully against Titus, as Titus' hand slid over to his shoulder, and suddenly Ignis rested his head against Titus' breast, his left hand slipping behind to settle on Titus' back.

Very well, then. That was that.

Titus uttered, as he pulled Ignis in tightly, "So. About that different sort of saddling..."

Ignis snorted happily, and lifted his head to peer up at Titus. A long, piercing stare, and then very suddenly Ignis had twisted in Titus' arm until they were chest to chest, and it was Ignis who pressed up and kissed him.

Dammit—

Did that count as Clarus winning that bet?

Eh, no matter. The bastard would have to hear it from Titus either way, and he wasn't going to rush to do that. Had other things to think about now, as he yanked Ignis in and returned the kiss rather forcefully, domineeringly, because Ignis was still a kid and really had no clue what the hell he was doing.

This was very likely his first kiss, knowing Ignis.

Didn't lack any enthusiasm, though, when his hands flew up to the back of Titus' neck. No one could ever say that Ignis didn't give his all to whatever task lay at hand. His own hands had found themselves gripping Ignis' waist, and it was a bit of a careful venture for Titus then, as he attempted to determine how to go about it all.

How forceful to be.

Ignis wasn't the sort to ever admit when he was scared or hurt, always so willing to suffer for those around him, and so it wouldn't be easy to determine what Ignis actually liked. Didn't wanna really hurt him and scare him off, and didn't want what was likely Ignis' first time to be unpleasant.

Kinda wished Ignis would have messed around with other people first before coming to him, if only so Titus had less pressure.

Nothing for it, because here they were now and Ignis' hands were running suddenly down Titus' chest and Titus' had lowered to grab Ignis by the backside and haul in him somehow farther. The kiss was abruptly broken when Titus pushed Ignis back towards the door that led to the sitting room, and Ignis complied easily, stepping backwards and yet never removing his hands from Titus.

By then, Ignis had taken to gripping his biceps and didn't seem interested in letting go.

Titus pushed Ignis briefly against the door, if only to press up against him and scrape teeth down his neck, and then he twisted the knob and Ignis stumbled back into the dark room. Ignis looked about, quickly, saw the sitting room in the dim light of the city, and snorted, "Always very prepared, I see!"

"Always," Titus breathed, very quick to reclaim Ignis' lips as he continued pushing him backwards, this time to the couch.

When Titus sat down and dragged Ignis atop him, they both finally got their long-awaited 'saddling'.

Ignis' long legs on either side of him was quite the experience.

Titus reached up, neatly plucked Ignis' glasses off his face, and set them aside so that they wouldn't come to harm, because Ignis would have fussed at him endlessly.

Hands in his short hair, lips on his ear, and as the heat kept building up and Titus ran hands under Ignis' shirt, he did remember Clarus' warning.

'I do suggest that if you're merely intending to hit it and quit it, then you make that fully clear from the start.'

Well! It was obvious on both ends, right? Did it really need to be said aloud? It was ridiculous to think that Ignis would ever truly be interested in a relationship with a man so much older than he was. It was a fling, a little teenage passion, as much a pastime to Ignis as it was to Titus. Titus didn't bother saying it, because he would have been embarrassed, for Ignis might have scoffed and said, 'Well, obviously! As if I would fall in love with you.' Not good for the old ego.

It was obvious.

Didn't need to say it.

Besides, his mouth was otherwise occupied with Ignis' neck, and Ignis was suddenly grabbing Titus' shirt by the hem and yanking it up. Titus was ever cooperative, Ignis successfully removed the shirt and tossed it aside, and Titus couldn't help but snort when Ignis uttered, "I'm relieved you removed that uniform."

"I anticipated this outcome," Titus teased, and Ignis' bare hands ran down Titus' equally bare chest.

As Titus had suspected, Ignis' palms were quite soft, always protected as they were.

"Happy to fall into your perfect plan, sir."

Titus would let that 'sir' slide, because Ignis was straddling him and sometimes 'sir' in the bedroom was very enticing.

Ignis' fingers ran through his chest hair, and the next thing Titus really knew Ignis had tossed aside his own shirt and then began unclasping Titus' belt. Ignis may not have known what he was doing, but seemed happy to throw himself into the midst of chaos and just figure things out as he went along.

Still, Titus was a bit shocked when Ignis threw the belt across the room and thrust his hand right into Titus' pants.

—right.

It was around then that Titus figured he didn't exactly need to tiptoe around Ignis, didn't need to worry too much about startling him or scaring him off, because Ignis seemed to be doing just fine and was likely attempting to show Titus that he wasn't afraid.

As Ignis helpfully but clumsily gave him a hand, so to speak, he unclasped Ignis' own belt, and before long the little office sitting room was littered with articles of clothing, strewn every which way. Titus grabbed Ignis' upper arms and twisted him sideways, pushed him down until he was lying on the couch, and it was one of the more thrilling moments he had had lately, taking Ignis' long legs and placing them around his waist and running palms down them.

Seemed to go on forever, and Titus tried extremely hard to focus on Ignis' legs and not the myriad of ways that Cor was going to attempt to murder him shortly. Easier to do when Ignis was reaching up and brushing fingers down the line of his obliques and lit up in shades of blue in the glowing light of Insomnia beyond the window.

Pretty.

When Titus leaned down over him, falling more conformingly between his legs, that was when Ignis held his breath and gripped Titus' shoulders and seemed suddenly nervous, at long last.

Titus finally bothered to ask, softly, although he already knew the answer, "Hey— You ever done this before?"

Ignis very quickly shook his head, and looked quite anxious.

As he had known, all along.

Well, there was nothing for it. They'd come too far now, and everyone stood there once, didn't they, on that uncertain edge of the very first time. Titus did wish it had been someone else, but was very sure that he would rather be the one to do this than Luche, who would have taken much less care.

Cor woulda...

No point in dwelling on it, and all Titus could do was utter, "Tell me to stop anytime you wish."

Ignis nodded, even though Titus knew that Ignis wouldn't.

He wouldn't insult Ignis by insisting or pulling back, because too many people already in the Citadel didn't take Ignis as seriously as he deserved. Ignis had come here of his own volition, knowing full well what it would entail, was a legal adult, and Ignis should have been allowed, for just this once, to make his own decision.

As Ignis clung to Titus' shoulders in uncertainty, Titus leaned down, kissed him briefly for reassurance, and then rather unceremoniously shoved his index and middle finger into Ignis' mouth. As in everything else, Ignis took it in stride, but he was squirming when Titus removed those fingers and reached down.

A low, deep noise in Ignis' throat.

Titus took his time, tried to settle Ignis' nerves, and when Ignis had loosened up and let go of Titus' shoulders to run fingers down the back of his neck, Titus figured it was time.

Titus couldn't really remember what it felt like to be that young and full of anticipation, but he was feeling his own sense of jittery enthusiasm when he spit in his hand, positioned himself, and finally pushed forward. He wasn't nervous like Ignis, but certainly felt some sort of pressure; the need to not make a fool of himself, as much as Ignis likely feared on his end.

A hiss, a clamp of Ignis' jaw, as Titus grabbed the back of his head quickly and pushed Ignis' face into his chest. Could feel the contortion of pain on Ignis' face, and stayed very still. Let him settle for a moment, a chance to relax and get used to it, and Titus heard himself murmuring in Ignis' ear though he couldn't precisely have ever recalled what he said then.

Caught up in the moment.

One of the more rewarding moments of his hectic life, when long minutes later Ignis pressed up and kissed him, hands running then down his back as he found his courage.

Titus took the hint, and started moving.

Perhaps it wasn't the most distinguished bedding, not as classy as someone like Ignis exactly deserved, on a couch in an office on the tenth floor, but it was as good as Titus could really have given him at that time. In the future, something better could be arranged, in either Ignis' apartment or maybe even Titus', but for now this little couch served its purpose well, and there were no complaints on either end.

Ignis' hands on his back felt as good here as they would have anywhere.

No acrobatics that time, no excessive roughness, nothing scandalous. Standard missionary with no deviations, because it was usually best not to toss someone around like a rag doll on their first night. Titus would save the violent manhandling for next time, because he was absolutely certain there would be a next time, from the way Ignis' hands wouldn't stop running over him for a single second.

Next time, or perhaps the time after, Titus could raise his hand and wrap it around Ignis' throat, but for now the kid was probably on emotional overload. Ignis was catty and chatty, but not very open and willing to express true emotions to anyone, didn't like to be seen in a vulnerable state, and asking more of him then might have caused Ignis' very mechanical brain to malfunction. Let him survive the first time, and then bend him over the desk and yank his hair. A solid plan.

That was the longest and yet the shortest two hours of Titus' life.

A dragging eternity that had gone by in a blink, and when Ignis held his breath and clenched up, Titus let loose for just a moment and grabbed Ignis' thighs for balance as he thrust quickly and shallowly on the verge.

That soft daze of stars.

He hung his head, sucked in air, held himself up for a moment, and then fell atop Ignis rather heavily, earning a low 'oomph' in response. He snorted, as Ignis smiled away in the pale light, and Titus was quite sure he felt happiness then, undiluted and sincere.

Titus rested his chin on Ignis' collarbone as Ignis ran one hand down his back and the other through his hair. That was the first time in so long that Titus had really been able to sit entirely still. Completely and utterly and truly still. Just rested then atop Ignis, breathing deeply and evenly as he closed his eyes and let someone hold him. Entrusted himself to someone's hands, and felt a bit of that stress and anxiety melt away. No plotting, no planning, no fretting, no looking over his shoulder, no restlessness, no uncertainty.

Just Ignis and his hands.

Drifting there in the dark of tranquility.

Ignis squirmed from time to time, as Titus' chest hair agitated him or Titus' chin pressed too hard into his collarbone, and when the clock was close to midnight, Titus finally lifted his head.

Ignis was staring up at him, sleepily but happily, and Titus uttered, "It's late. I can pull the bed out, if you'd like to sleep here."

Ignis smiled, hands running over Titus' shoulders, and then he replied, "I should go. I don't wish to keep you here all night."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Noted. Some other time."

His duty done, Titus lifted himself up and allowed Ignis to squirm out from beneath him, sitting upright as Ignis darted quickly to the door and no doubt to the bathroom. Titus looked around, still in that warm lull, and was smiling when Ignis came back shortly after and began the search for his clothing. Titus watched him in the dim blue light of the city, and felt something alarmingly close to affection.

Ignis always had been entirely inoffensive, always to Titus' liking, blind loyalty to someone that didn't really care about him aside.

As Ignis tugged his pants on, Titus offered, "If you're too tired, I can drive you home. I'll bring you to collect your car in the morning."

Kept on offering Ignis ways to stay, perhaps because Titus was enjoying having company for once.

Ignis snorted, and said, lowly, "You're ever the gentleman, Titus. I'll be quite alright. You do enough for everyone. Don't go out of the way for me."

Ignis was one to talk, and Titus couldn't help but reply, "You're the one who does enough for everyone. Too much. Take a day off sometime, won't you?"

"No promises."

Titus rested his palms behind his head, watched Ignis looping his belt, and muttered, "Guess I'll have to force you. You wouldn't refuse the Captain a day, now, would you?"

Ignis peered up at Titus through his lashes, smirked, and droned, "No. I suppose I wouldn't."

"Good. We can spend the entire day saddling."

Ignis picked Titus' shirt up from the floor, and tossed it playfully at Titus' face. Titus caught it, and was glad that the very low light might have hidden just a bit the way he was smiling.

"I sense the Captain simply wouldn't have that inhuman sort of stamina."

"That a challenge?"

"It is."

"You may come to regret that."

Ignis, now fully clothed, came over and collapsed atop Titus' lap, looping arms around Titus' neck as Titus held him in place. Their eyes met, and Titus felt a little twinge of adrenaline when Ignis pressed forward and kissed Titus' forehead. Hadn't expected that.

When was the last time anyone had kissed his forehead?

Couldn't remember anyone at all ever doing that, except for perhaps his parents countless years ago.

His grip on Ignis tightened, and he heard himself whisper, without really meaning to, "Are you sure you don't wish to spend the night here?"

A short silence, and then Ignis murmured, "Do you want me to?"

Kinda sounded that way, didn't it, with Titus continuously offering.

Perhaps, at some level, he did.

Played it off quite well, he thought, when he teased, "It would be a good way to build up my stamina."

A loud snort, and Ignis kissed Titus' forehead once more before squirming out of his arms, reaching up to attempt to fix his hair.

An odd sense of disappointment.

"Alas, I fear I must go. I won't overstay my welcome. I'd rather you get some rest. I'll be on my way. Goodnight, Titus. I had a wonderful time."

"Likewise," Titus replied, as he pulled himself to his feet.

Clarus' words were long forgotten, and Titus reached out to tousle Ignis' hair and ruin every attempt he had made to smooth it. Ignis swatted him off as Titus snorted, and when Ignis made for the door, Titus called, "Goodnight. I hope to see you soon."

His way of implying that he didn't want this to be a one-night stand.

Ignis looked over his shoulder, and smiled, prettily.

"And you shall. Whenever the Captain should have need of me. I'll be ready for that forced day off."

With that, Ignis was gone, and Titus found himself smiling for the rest of the night. He didn't go home, and stayed there on that little couch, lying with hands behind head as he stared at the ceiling. Could smell Ignis there yet, and drifted.

The feel of Ignis lingered long after he did.

Just a pastime, but one that Titus found himself very much looking forward to. A way to keep his sanity intact as the grandest of plans drew closer and weighed so heavily upon him. Ignis was a reprieve, a light on the stormy sea.

A haven.

Titus was so confident in himself that it never once truly occurred to him that Ignis, perhaps, saw things differently than he did. That Ignis had been expecting something more than Titus had.

Clarus' warning had been forgotten.